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I didn’t agree just out of pacifist beliefs, though. I know it’s stupid; it’s been months already. There’s no way Reno is still alive. But if he is… I have to see for myself. I have to know, even if the answer could crush me.

There are so many things I wish I told him. I've always been drawn to him, even back when we were children. There was something about his rebel side, the unfairness of the way he was treated, the kindness I saw underneath… I don't know, I guess I always liked him, but I was too scared to tell him. Reno isn't a bad person, despite what some say, but he can be mean sometimes. I don't blame him. Why would he be nice to people who don't care about him or outwardly despise him? But what if I told him about the way I felt and he thought I was making fun of him? Besides, he's so cool, outspoken, and confident despite everything, and I'm just a normal guy. I'm not strong like him. I can’t fight, I don’t make waves, and I’m too sensitive. There's no way he'd be into me. I don't even know if he's into guys at all. Well, I guess I'll never know now. I should have at least tried. I should have made sure he knew I was always sincere and not just polite.

“You’ll be careful, right, Nasir?” Anne asks me. “I know you always see the best in people, but don’t forget the Raiders are brutal. Always stay on guard, even with Dornao’s men around.”

“Of course. I’m not that naive.” I let out a nervous chuckle. “I won’t do anything reckless. You have my word.”

“Good.” Anna and Mira both nod.

“Can you imagine if you actually manage to achieve peace with them?” Anna adds. “We wouldn't have to worry about straying too far from camp to gather resources anymore. We could expand our farms and fields. That would open up so many possibilities for us.”

“It would be wonderful,” I agree. “All this mindless violence, our people dying for nothing… It makes me sick.”

“Me too,” Mira confirms. “Oh, on a more positive note, you know the boy who came in after a fall earlier, right before you had to leave? You were right. His legs aren't as badly hurt as I feared. He'll recover without too much trouble.”

A smile spreads across my face. “Really? That’s wonderful.” The boy had been so young, I would have hated for him to lose his legs. I would have hated it for anyone, but it’s always harder with children. I love my job; being able to help people is so fulfilling. But it can be hard sometimes too. We can’t save everyone, and I’ve fallen asleep crying more times than I can count thinking about the lives that slipped through my hands. Even more so these past few months with Reno’s… With Reno missing.

We’re ushered into the Raiders’ Ruins by a group of mismatched individuals, some dressed all in black and gray, others wearing strange colorful outfits, makeup, and accessories, all armed to the teeth.

“Ah, we’ve been waiting for you.” Cirail opens his arms wide to greet us. He’s wearing an oversized green long-sleeved shirt with the word “Raider” spray-painted on it, a pair of ripped jeans, and bits and pieces of tactical armor, yet he holds himself like he owns the place and everyone in it, which isn’t far from the truth.

He’s slightly hunched over, reminding me of a predator ready to pounce. Dornao, our chief of the guard, tenses beside me. His hand rests on his gun, but to my relief, he doesn't make any hostile moves. The last thing we need is for a fight to break. Especially since we still don’t know how many munitions the Raiders have, or if they’re able to produce their own bullets.

“Come on, my friends,” Cirail says in his nasal, coarse voice, giving us a wide, dangerous smile. “Let’s go to the refectory. I find that these kinds of boring meetings are always more bearable with food and entertainment.”

As if he wasn’t the one who asked for the meeting in the first place.

We follow him to a large stone room, its walls decorated by graffiti and crude paintings. I take a seat at a long wooden table next to Dornao. Cirail snaps his fingers, and servants appear, bearing meat, vegetables, and alcohol. At least, I think they’re servants. It’s hard to make out a clear hierarchy among these people, outside of the fact that Cirail is above them all.

Then, my heart misses a bit. Reno walks in, carrying a tray full of bread. He’s dressed in some sort of weird turquoise and purple jester outfit, complete with a fool’s cap, a crop top and short skirt with a lozenge pattern, thigh-high socks, and pointy black shoes. Lozenges of the same colors are painted around his beautiful blue eyes, alongside black coal. I can make out some faint scars and healing bruises all over his handsome body. He’s smiling, but his gaze is distant. His expression falters for a second when our gazes meet, but he quickly looks away and schools his features.

“Who wants some nice buns?” He grins as he lays the tray on the table, bending over enough to make his behind peek from under the tiny skirt. My cheeks grow red when I notice he’s not wearing any underwear.

Cirail gropes Reno’s bottom. “I’ll take care of those buns later. Down.”

“Oh, you always know how to make a man blush.” Reno blows him a kiss before kneeling under the table. He unzips Cirail’s fly and takes his dick in his mouth while the Raiders laugh.

Wait, no, not just the Raiders. Dornao’s chuckling too, and he’s not the only one in our delegation.

“Looks like our little nuisance finally found a place where he belongs,” Dornao remarks. “He looks happy. Maybe if we’d used him like that back at camp, he’d actually have been good for something instead of causing problems.”

Cirail nods approvingly. “I like you. Maybe we can manage to come to an arrangement.”

I’m too shocked to say anything. All I can do is stare in horror. Part of me wants to rush to Reno, see if he’s okay, and demand Cirail let go of him immediately, but I know it’s not an option. All I’d achieve is getting us all killed, Reno included. Instead, I grit my teeth.

“So, what kind of arrangement do you suggest,” I ask, feigning a detachment I don’t feel at all.

“Oh, nothing unreasonable. If you just give us thirty percent of your finds when you go scavenging and twenty-five percent of what your farms produce, I can make sure the attacks you’ve been facing largely decrease. That would benefit us all, don’t you think?”

“The attacks you’ve been causing?” I can’t help but ask. There's paper and a pencil in one of the leather satchels clasped to my pants. I'm supposed to write the terms down, but I'm too angry to remember them.

”Semantics,” Cirail chuckles. I can see him tugging Reno’s hair under the table. I want to throttle him.

Clea puts a calming hand over my arm.

“A decrease, you say?” she asks Cirail. “What kind of decrease are we talking about?”

Cirail scratches his chin, pretending to consider her question. “Uhm, I think I can guarantee seventy percent fewer attacks. Of course, if you increase the share you’re willing to give us, I could do more. I have people to feed, you see.”